Lon Chaney

Dubbed "The Man of a Thousand Faces" and the first great master of horror before it became a formalized genre in the 1930s, actor Lon Chaney broke new ground in the silent era of Hollywood for his exc...
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Pop duo Erasure have mined Hollywood's classic black and white monster movies for their new Halloween video for the single Dead of Night. Lon Chaney and Boris Karloff and their mummies, Draculas, werewolves and Frankensteins feature prominently in the promo.

The silent film star will celebrate her latest milestone on 20 October (12) at the Cinefamily Silent Film House Theater in Hollywood, where invited guests will be treated to a screening of clips from the actress' lengthy career, which began alongside Lon Chaney in 1925's Phantom Of The Opera.
Laemmle made movie history when she became one of the first stars to speak in a film - the actress spoke the first lines in Bela Lugosi's classic Dracula.
Guests will also get a sneak peek at her latest role in web series Broken Dreams Blvd, starring Danny Aiello.
In the series, she plays a grandmother who runs the oldest tour bus company on Hollywood Boulevard.
Laemmle's family played a big part in the history of Hollywood - her uncle, Carl Laemmle, not only founded Universal Studios but also created the Hollywood tourism trade.
Aiello, actresses Renee Taylor and Fran Drescher, The Hulk Lou Ferrigno and relatives of silver screen greats Bella Lugosi and Tyrone Power are expected to attend the birthday party.

In a post-Harry Potter Avatar and Lord of the Rings world the descriptors "sci-fi" and "fantasy" conjure up particular imagery and ideas. The Hunger Games abolishes those expectations rooting its alternate universe in a familiar reality filled with human characters tangible environments and terrifying consequences. Computer graphics are a rarity in writer/director Gary Ross' slow-burn thriller wisely setting aside effects and big action to focus on star Jennifer Lawrence's character's emotional struggle as she embarks on the unthinkable: a 24-person death match on display for the entire nation's viewing pleasure. The final product is a gut-wrenching mature young adult fiction adaptation diffused by occasional meandering but with enough unexpected choices to keep audiences on their toes.
Panem a reconfigured post-apocalyptic America is sectioned off into 12 unique districts and ruled under an iron thumb by the oppressive leaders of The Capitol. To keep the districts producing their specific resources and prevent them from rebelling The Capitol created The Hunger Games an annual competition pitting two 18-or-under "tributes" from each district in a battle to the death. During the ritual tribute "Reaping " teenage Katniss (Lawrence) watches as her 12-year-old sister Primrose is chosen for battle—and quickly jumps to her aid becoming the first District 12 citizen to volunteer for the games. Joined by Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) a meek baker's son and the second tribute Effie the resident designer and Haymitch a former Hunger Games winner-turned-alcoholic-turned-mentor Katniss rides off to The Capitol to train and compete in the 74th Annual Hunger Games.
The greatest triumph of The Hunger Games is Ross' rich realization of the book's many worlds: District 12 is painted as a reminiscent Southern mining town haunting and vibrant; The Capitol is a utopian metropolis obsessed with design and flair; and The Hunger Games battleground is a sprawling forest peppered with Truman Show-esque additions that remind you it's all being controlled by overseers. The small-scale production value adds to the character-first approach and even when the story segues to larger arenas like a tickertape parade in The Capitol's grand Avenue of Tributes hall it's all about Katniss.
For fans the script hits every beat a nearly note-for-note interpretation of author Suzanne Collins' original novel—but those unfamiliar shouldn't worry about missing anything. Ross knows his way around a sharp screenplay (he's the writer of Big Pleasantville and Seabiscuit) and he's comfortable dropping us right into the action. His characters are equally as colorful as Panem Harrelson sticking out as the former tribute enlivened by the chance to coach winners. He's funny he's discreet he's shaded—a quality all the cast members share. As a director Ross employs a distinct often-grating perspective. His shaky cam style emphasizes the reality of the story but in fight scenarios—and even simple establishing shots of District 12's goings-on—the details are lost in motion blur.
But the dread of the scenario is enough to make Hunger Games an engrossing blockbuster. The lead-up to the actual competition is an uncomfortable and biting satire of reality television sports and everything that commands an audience in modern society. Katniss' brooding friend Gale tells her before she departs "What if nobody watched?" speculating that carnage might end if people could turn away. Unfortunately they can't—forcing Katniss and Peeta to become "stars" of the Hunger Games. The duo are pushed to gussy themselves up put on a show and play up their romance for better ratings. Lawrence channels her reserved Academy Award-nominated Winter's Bone character to inhabit Katniss' frustration with the system. She's great at hunting but she doesn't want to kill. She's compassionate and considerate but has no interest in bowing down to the system. She's a leader but she knows full well she's playing The Capitol's game. Even with 23 other contestants vying for the top spot—like American Idol with machetes complete with Ryan Seacrest stand-in Caesar Flickerman (the dazzling Stanley Tucci)—Katniss' greatest hurdle is internal. A brave move for a movie aimed at a young audience.
By the time the actual Games roll around (the movie clocks in at two and a half hours) there's a need to amp up the pace that never comes and The Hunger Games loses footing. Katniss' goal is to avoid the action hiding in trees and caves waiting patiently for the other tributes to off themselves—but the tactic isn't all that thrilling for those watching. Luckily Lawrence Hutcherson and the ensemble of young actors still deliver when they cross paths and particular beats pack all the punch an all-out deathwatch should. PG-13 be damned the film doesn't skimp on the bloodshed even when it comes to killing off children. The Hunger Games bites off a lot for the first film of a franchise and does so bravely and boldly. It may not make it to the end alive but it doesn't go down without a fight.
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D.W. Griffith's 1915 Civil War movie The Birth of a Nation makes the list, as does Fritz Lang's Metropolis, Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments and Lon Chaney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
The most recent film on the list is 1928's The Passion of Joan of Arc, starring Renee Maria Falconetti.

With Lionsgate’s “The Last Exorcism” opening this weekend, a look back at cinema’s lasting love affair with the horror genre is in order. Retrospection confirms that movies that scare us are among the most consistently beloved (though rarely by critics) and revenue generating of all the various and sundry genres on the cinematic menu.
See the Hollywood.com review of "The Last Exorcism" by our own Thomas Leupp - 'The Last Exorcism' Movie Review
From the earliest days of cinema, audiences have been transfixed, intrigued, repulsed, amazed, and sometimes literally scared to death by films such as the 1922 release of “Nosferatu,” 1925’s “Phantom of the Opera,” starring Lon Chaney (wherein the reveal of Chaney’s disfigured face had women fainting and people running for the aisles), and into the classic period of the Universal Studios horror films of the ’30s and ’40s. Vampires, werewolves, mummies, invisible men, and Frankenstein’s monster helped create a cinematic language all its own and a canvas on which filmmakers could paint their spooky stories. Some of the finest movies of the time were steeped in horror fable and presented imagery that stretched the boundaries of the makeup and special effects of the time. James Whale’s 1935 classic “Bride of Frankenstein” was one of the first movie sequels and is acknowledged to be one of the best films (horror or otherwise) of all time.
Just as horror often reflects the Jungian idea of the collective unconscious, so the late ’50s brought the Cold War and the threat of nuclear annihilation and the effects of radioactive contamination into the minds of the fear-laden masses, and this was reflected in the films of that era. The invasion of Earth by unwelcome and hostile creatures from other worlds, along with incredible shrinking men, giant-sized bugs and the occasional “Fly,” reflected the fears of the day and threw them back at the audience via the big screen. When Steve McQueen fought the red ooze that was “The Blob” in the 1958 horror classic, there was no question what “red scare” he was really fighting. (Possibly scarier for McQueen was that he was only paid $3,000 to appear in the film, and it went on to earn $4 million!)
The 1960s were no less important in terms of the genre’s influence and continued popularity with audiences. The 1968 filmed version of Ira Levin’s famed novel “Rosemary’s Baby,” as directed by Roman Polanski and starring the angelic 23-year-old Mia Farrow and legendary indie filmmaker/actor John Cassavetes, was a purely psychological affair, with nary a drop of blood or image of gore in sight. The movie, however, scared the living crap out of people and so affected moviegoers at the time that many claimed the baby had horns and a gruesome face and thus fueled many of their nightmares for weeks. (by the way, the baby is NEVER shown in the film.)
The spiritual progeny of that film came in the early ’70s with another and equally influential adaptation of a bestselling novel. In 1973, “The Exorcist” had people lining up around the block at movie theaters and had the nation and box office abuzz. Written by William Peter Blatty (who also penned the screenplay), the William Friedkin-directed film was a slow-burn masterpiece and used the almost sadistic ratcheting up of the level of dread in the film to drive the audience mad. It worked, and as pea-soup sales took a nosedive, the film (released ironically enough on the day after Christmas) became the highest-grossing film of that year with a massive unadjusted gross of $165 million and a national phenomenon. Films like “The Last Exorcism” and 2005’s “The Exorcism of Emily Rose” have their cinematic DNA rooted in films like “Rosemary’s Baby” and “The Exorcist.”
The late-’70s and the 1980s saw the introduction of the sequel-spawning/slasher/teen-killing/money-making horror films such as “Halloween,” “Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Friday the 13th.” In one fell swoop, the genre eschewed the psychologically driven horror of the early ’70s in favor of blood, guts and boobs. The formula worked, and Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees and Freddy Krueger became the new Frankenstein, Wolfman and Dracula to a nation of bloodthirsty teens. Even in the late-2000’s, updated versions of these new horror classics thrive at the box office with Warner Bros.’ “A Nightmare on Elm Street” achieving number one with a whopping $32.9 million debut weekend back in April of this year.
The 1990s saw two types of horror co-existing and thriving. First, the R-rated mash-up of comedy and horror that would become the incredibly successful “Scream” franchise captivated audiences looking to laugh as much as they screamed. At a midnight screening of the film two full months before its intended release at the ShowEast movie convention in October of 1996, a theater full of recruited high school kids went absolutely insane as Drew Barrymore’s character was teased, taunted and tortured by a voice on the phone in the opening scene. After working the audience into a squirming, giggling and orgiastic frenzy, the film delivered the payoff of Drew being eviscerated by her killer. The audience members were hooked and like teens on the scariest roller-coaster in the theme park, they wanted to take that ride over and over again. With domestic box office reaching $103 million, the film became appropriately enough, the 13th-highest-grossing film released in 1996.
Three years later, a completely different kind of horror movie shook audiences to their core and elevated the twist ending to high art. Newcomer M. Night Shyamalan quietly delivered “The Sixth Sense” to an unsuspecting public and at the same time reintroduced the thrill of psychological horror to the late-’90s masses. The film, starring Bruce Willis in a total career-changer, grossed a massive and unexpected $293.5 million in domestic receipts alone and was the second-highest-grossing film released in 1999, behind only the most anticipated movie in two decades…wait for it…”Star Wars: Episode One – The Phantom Menace,” which grossed a jaw-dropping $431.1 million.
Now onto the 2000s or as some might call it, the decade that introduced the beast that has become known as “torture porn.” Ushered in with great success by Lionsgate with the first “Saw” film in 2004 and further expanded upon by the “Hostel” films and the lesser-known 2005 release “Wolf Creek,” this sub-genre allowed moviegoers to exorcise their own demons through the viewing of other humans being tortured, dismembered and killed in all manner of clever and innovative ways. The twisted and cathartic nature of these films evidently struck a strong chord with audiences and has given the “Saw” franchise life for the past six years and generated an average opening gross for the first six films of a staggering $26.6 million.
This abbreviated history of the horror genre was inspired in part by last year’s success of the unlikely box-office juggernaut that was “Paranormal Activity.” Shot on a shoestring budget with virtually zero production value, the film became arguably the most profitable film of all time and is a film-school marketing course unto itself. Simple Formula: $11,000 budget, plus viral marketing, plus tons of press coverage, plus a total domestic gross of over $108 million, multiplied by a movie that actually delivers on the promise of a major subconscious mind-f&amp;*king, equals the box-office horror story of the decade. Of course the sequel will be released by Paramount on October 22 followed by Lionsgate’s “Saw VII” on perfectly enough, Halloween weekend.
With “The Last Exorcism” expected to top the box office this weekend its is frighteningly clear that the horror genre is here to stay and as it was decades ago, it is today: audiences love to have the crap scared out of them in the spooky confines of a darkened movie theatre.

“Even a man who is pure of heartand says his prayers by nightmay become a wolf when the wolfbane bloomsand the autumn moon is bright.”
I’m sorry about that but I’m pretty sure that any review of the new remake of The Wolfman is required by law to start off with that famous quote. Thankfully this version of the story only speaks it in the opening as opposed to the almost mantra status it achieves in the original. And yet there’s no question that director Joe Johnston’s interpretation is more heavy handed. Or heavy pawed as the case may be.
Benicio del Toro was cast in the role that Lon Chaney Jr became famous for in the original 1941 Universal classic presumably because there’s a definite facial resemblance between the two. He plays Lawrence Talbot a famed actor who is forced to abandon his theatrical tour in London when he hears of his brother’s disappearance. He returns home to his family estate as the prodigal son and meets with his father Sir John (a scenery chewing Anthony Hopkins). It is established to Lawrence that when he was a child he was put in a mental institution after his mother committed suicide. Pay attention this MacGuffin might come up again later.
Lawrence’s brother’s body turns up horribly mauled and when he goes to claim it he overhears accusations against a local group of gypsies along with whispers of werewolves. He visits the local gypsy camp on a full moon looking for answers along with a group of disgruntled locals. While he is there something attacks killing indiscriminately left and right both gypsies and angry townspeople disappearing into the woods with bloodcurdling screams. Lawrence sees a young boy run off into the woods and chases him down but is himself attacked by the creature and bitten before it’s run off by the townsfolk. What could possibly go wrong from here?
Emily Blunt plays the dead brother’s fiancee who returns to Talbot Hall to help the seemingly mortally wounded Lawrence return to health which he does with surprising quickness. But omens and portents loom ominously everywhere menace drips off every frame and a recently arrived police investigator (Hugo Weaving) is looking at Lawrence as his prime suspect for the local violence because of his past mental problems (see it came up again). Mysteries become revealed (to the characters anyway the audience if they’re even vaguely intelligent will have figured them out long before then) Lawrence gets the 1800’s version of psychiatric care (not a good thing) and the blood starts a’ flowing.
It’s the rare production as riddled with troubles as this one was that turns out to be a ‘happy accident’ like Apocalypse Now or Jaws. The Wolfman is merely an over-crowded mess of a film but it’s impossible to lay blame entirely at the director’s feet. Johnston was merely the last in a line of directors before him who started to work on it and then dropped off. That along with major studio meddling led to a film that has just enough good stuff in it to give one a picture of what could have been great but not enough to be very entertaining as is.
The biggest problem is that there are so many things crammed in but nothing is explored adequately. Even with the added 17 minutes into the Blu-Ray’s “Director’s Cut” it merely serves to drag more. The relationship between Lawrence and his father seems silly and overwrought there’s not a shred of chemistry between del Toro and Blunt Weaving seems only there as an afterthought and the mystery the film hides is obvious and uninteresting...the only thing added to the original story with any weight at all is the torturous psychiatric care Lawrence is put into which ends the second act with a satisfyingly bloody crescendo but it’s over way too soon.
Horror buffs might be the one demographic that attach themselves to the film as The Wolfman doesn’t exactly skimp on the gore. Folks get all-kinds of ripped apart left and right at various points and the camera doesn’t shy away from showing it. What WILL upset horror fans is that even though multiple Oscar winner Rick Baker worked on the film and built the basic Werewolf makeup time didn’t allow for him to create the transformations as he did so memorably (and still the best version of it ever done) in 1981’s An American Werewolf in London. The CG that is used here certainly is passable but there’s something missing there a quality lost by using computers instead of the traditional practical effects that leaves an indelible and unmissable scar on the film.
At the very least Blu-Ray owners will be pleased by some of the bonus features. Those with their player online can watch the original Wolfman film streamed through the BD-Live function. In addition to that there are: five deleted scenes that are actually pretty good; the ‘U-Control’ function which lets you add a pop-up trivia track during the movie and PiP comparisons to the original film as well as video commentary by the production crew; Two alternate endings which aren’t really all that alternate; “The Beast Maker” - an interview with Rick Baker about his werewolf fixation; “Transformation Secrets” - examining the soulless CG effects during the man-to-wolf scenes; “The Wolfman Unleashed” - a look at the stunt work; D-box motion enabling for those who have a few thousand bucks lying around to buy their own home motion chair; and a digital copy of the movie.
If The Werewolf is good for anything it’s as an object lesson. Too many cooks spoil the broth. Glimmers of what could have been abound but it’s weighed down by it’s own sense of self-importance. If a werewolf fix is called for most times you’d be better served by renting The Howling Dog Soldiers Ginger Snaps or the aforementioned An American Werewolf in London. Johnston’s tale will likely be only of serious interest to completists and whoever tries to remake the classic movie again in ten years or so.

After being cursed by delays The Wolfman Hollywood’s latest spin on the popular werewolf myth finally bares its ugly fangs in theaters this week. Predictably the film is a train wreck of a debacle -- one would expect nothing less from a notoriously troubled production that saw its original director Mark Romanek abandon ship just two weeks before the start of shooting -- but The Wolfman’s problems stem less from the late-game addition of helmer Joe Johnston who at the very least delivered a terrific looking film (its gorgeously eerie Victorian aesthetic evoking a palpable exquisite sense of dread is by far its best feature) than from the misguided efforts of its producer and star Benicio Del Toro.
The Wolfman is the brainchild of Del Toro an ardent horror fan who conceived the film as an homage of sorts to the low-budget “monster movies” from the ‘30s and ‘40s that he loved dearly as a child. It’s fashioned as a loose remake of 1941’s The Wolf Man a film that both established Lon Chaney Jr.’s performance as the definitive take on the character and introduced aspects of the werewolf legend now considered sacrosanct. The notion that a werewolf can be felled by an item made from silver for example owes its origin to The Wolf Man.
But Del Toro feels all wrong in the role of Lawrence Talbot the prodigal son of a 19th-century English aristocrat whose fateful encounter with a bloodthirsty lycan the same creature that brutally murdered his brother just days prior triggers his unwitting initiation into the accursed tribe of feral man-beasts. Del Toro's resume of low-key understated performances marked by a muttering often imperceptible delivery in films like Traffic and The Usual Suspects suggests a skill set better suited to playing another famous movie monster one significantly less loquacious than his character in this movie. Seriously -- the guy should have remade Frankenstein instead.
Playing an American-bred (but English-born we’re told) character in an 1890 setting looking uncomfortable in period attire surrounded by such “proper” British actors as Sir Anthony Hopkins and Emily Blunt and fully annunciating all of his line readings for the first time that I can recall Del Toro appears hopelessly out of place in The Wolfman.
Things only get worse unfortunately when Del Toro’s character transforms into the dreaded werewolf. Each time the moon is full the film transitions with increasing ridiculousness from a somber Victorian drama into a hard-core horror flick replete with grisly shots of torn flesh exposed spines and severed limbs. The first overly gruesome attack triggers a kind of nervous laugh more from the shock than anything else. The second invites an amused uneasy chuckle which soon snowballs into an outright belly laugh. And the effect soon spreads to the dialogue the outrageous gore rendering the film's mannered melodrama strangely hysterical.
Of all the Wolfman players only Hopkins seems to get the joke reveling in his manipulative mischief as Talbot's inappropriately glib stoutly aloof father. If only he'd let his castmates in on it.

The film, in which Blunt stars alongside Benicio Del Toro and Sir Anthony Hopkins, was scheduled to hit cinemas this year (09), but now it will be released in February (10) - and the actress insists to decision to delay the project was the right one.
She tells WENN, "With a movie like that and all its special effects, it's a big movie; you can't accelerate it's release date. It's not fair. It just needed some more time. The film is so good. I'm really happy that they waited.
"I think February is the best time to see it. The fall is all about the award seasons, and it's not that kind of film. It's a werewolf movie and a brilliant one; more of a throwback to the old Lon Chaney films. It's classic, gothic and eerie... I think more people will see it in February."

Hart battled dementia in his latter years and passed away at his home in Rosarito Beach, Mexico on Sunday (20Sep09), according to the Los Angeles Times.
A California native, Hart launched his Hollywood career in Cecil B. DeMille’s 1938 film The Buccaneer.
After serving in the U.S. Army, he landed the title role in the 1947 TV series Jack Armstrong: The All-American Boy and took over from Moore as The Lone Ranger for 52 episodes of the popular family show.
He was the perfect choice for the role - because he worked as a cowboy as a teenager, and had joined the cast of the show to work with a nervous Silver, the Lone Ranger's horse.
Hart gave up the role of The Lone Ranger when Moore returned to the show, but he played the masked hero again in a 1981 episode of The Greatest American Hero and in a 1982 episode of Happy Days.
He also starred in Hawkeye and the Last of the Mohicans, alongside horror movie icon Lon Chaney Jr.

A Native American legend tells a story about humans named Skinwalkers who get supernatural powers once they feast on blood. The legend also says a 13 year-old boy will come someday when the moon is blood red and break the curse. Enter Timothy (Matthew Knight) a 13 year-old who lives in the town of Hugenot. His mother (Rhona Mitra) is concerned about her son's persistent nightmares and tells Uncle Jonas (Elias Koteas) she wants to leave town. Maybe it’s because a pack of Skinwalkers led by Varek (Jason Behr) have invaded the town. But Mom is in for a shock. It turns out Uncle Jonas his daughter (Sarah Carter) her fiancé (Shawn Roberts) the mailman (Lyriq Bent) and even Nana (Barbara Gordon) all turn into werewolves once a month and Timothy is the half-breed who may save them. Behr (Roswell) is practically unrecognizable but does a nice job as the long-haired well-built Skinwalker who sets out to kill the boy but soon discovers a secret that changes his mind. His sidekicks are both scary (Kim Coates) and sexy (Natassia Malthe) and they do well playing evil. Familiar character actor Koteas becomes the emotional soul of the film even when he transforms into a werewolf. But it's young Knight (The Grudge 2) who has the biggest challenge showing he can be scared fearless and smart—all at the same time. Not easy to do but the kid handles the chores with aplomb. Skinwalkers is really a rather tame werewolf film not unlike the Lon Chaney versions back in the 1940s. It's hard to make a compelling werewolf movie these days because they focus just on the gore. The classic exception is John Landis’ An American Werewolf in London which combined blood and guts with comedy but Skinwalkers actually comes close. It has action a good story and decent special effects without relying on the usual violence. Skinwalkers’ director James Isaac was responsible for one of the more creative Friday the 13ths Jason X and has a special effects background which is evident in Skinwalkers’ wolf transformations. The battles are nearly Matrix-esque and the scenes of the red moon and the morning sunrises are quite spectacular. The film may have suffered some bad buzz earlier on but it's far better than most of the other werewolf offerings.

Final silent, "Thunder"; although thought lost, footage was discovered in 1996

First talking picture (and his last film), "The Unholy Three" (sound remake of his 1925 silent film)

Left school and worked as guide, conducting tourists along the tortuous trail to Pike's Peak; then worked as prop boy in Colorado Springs Opera House

Entered films as Western heavy; appeared unbilled in "False Faces", "Riddle Gawne"

Summary

Dubbed "The Man of a Thousand Faces" and the first great master of horror before it became a formalized genre in the 1930s, actor Lon Chaney broke new ground in the silent era of Hollywood for his exceptionally skilled use of makeup and his ability to contort his own body in any manner he chose. After a career in vaudeville, Chaney made his way to Hollywood in 1912 and worked on dozens of pictures as a supporting player until elevating his status alongside Dorothy Phillips and William Stowell in films like "The Piper's Price" (1917), "The Talk of the Town" (1918) and "Paid in Advance" (1919). At this time, Chaney won widespread recognition thanks to his first collaboration with director Tod Browning on "The Wicked Darling" (1919). Meanwhile, he went to increasingly greater lengths to create tortured characters until achieving true mastery as the deaf and partially blind Quasimodo in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" (1923). But his most lasting creation was undoubtedly the disfigured Phantom in "The Phantom of the Opera" (1925), in which his full artistry was on display in a pivotal unmasking scene that remained one of the most frightening moments captured on film. In the last five years of his life, Chaney made some of his most popular movies, including "Tell It to the Marines" (1926), "Mr. Wu" (1927) and "The Unholy Three" (1930), his only talkie. With his son, Lon Chaney, Jr., successfully carrying on his legacy, Chaney remained a remarkable figure whose ability to make human a grotesque gallery of deformed characters was unmatched.

Born on April 1, 1883 in Colorado Springs, CO, Chaney was raised by his immigrant father, Frank, a deaf-mute barber shop owner, and his mother, Emma, also a deaf-mute who was crippled by inflammatory rheumatism when he was nine years old. Because both of his parents were deaf, Chaney grew up skilled in pantomime. At some point in his youth, he left school and became a guide, leading tourists along the treacherous trail to Pike's Peak. He later worked as a prop boy at the Colorado Springs Opera House, before taking the stage himself with an appearance in "The Little Tycoon," co-written with his brother, when he was 17 years old. Chaney soon began a successful vaudeville career and joined the Ferris Hartmann Opera Company in San Francisco, which traveled to Los Angeles. In 1905, he married 16-year-old singer Cleva Creighton and had his only child, son Creighton Chaney, who later became known as Lon Chaney, Jr. Following marital troubles, Mrs. Chaney attempted suicide by swallowing mercury chloride; the attempt failed, but ruined her singing voice and ended her career. The fallout led Chaney to divorce Cleva and leave vaudeville for Hollywood.

In 1912, Chaney began appearing in a number of short films, playing the heavy in a number of Westerns. In his very first films he often appeared uncredited, while most from this time period were considered lost, as so many silent films were by the 21st century. He received his first screen credits as an actor in films like "Shon the Piper" (1913), "The Blood Red Tape of Charity" (1913) and "The Lamb, the Woman, the Wolf" (1914). Chaney debuted as a director with the short film, "The Stool Pigeon" (1915), and went on to direct and supervise Western star J. Warren Kerrigan in several films for Universal Pictures. In 1917, he was paired with actress Dorothy Phillips and actor William Stowell, and made a number of successful pictures for Universal, with Chaney and Stowell alternated between playing Phillips' lover and the villain. The trio made their first appearance together in "The Piper's Price" (1917), and went on to make such films as "Hell Morgan's Girl" (1917), "The Girl in the Checkered Coat" (1917), "Broadway Love" (1918), and "The Talk of the Town" (1918).

Of course, Chaney was in demand outside of his collaboration with Phillips and Stowell, and even went as far as making the anti-German propaganda film "The Kaiser, the Beast of Berlin" (1918) at the height of World War I. Meanwhile, he made his last film with Phillips and Stowell, "Paid in Advance" (1919), when Stowell was killed in a train accident while scouting locations in the Congo. Chaney next began making the first of many collaborations with horror master Tod Browning in "The Wicked Darling" (1919) and finally won widespread recognition with audiences for his first major role, playing a contortionist in "The Miracle Man" (1919). By this time, Chaney had developed a reputation as a versatile character actor capable of transforming his appearance at will, often to the point where audiences were unable to recognize him, thus earning the nickname "The Man of a Thousand Faces." He quickly became renowned for his artistry with makeup and the great, almost masochistic lengths he would go to create the grotesque bodies that hid the tortured souls of his characters. Chaney bound his legs behind him and walked on his knees in "The Penalty" (1920), strapped his arms tightly to his body to play the part of an armless knife thrower in "The Unknown" (1927), and wore painfully enormous teeth to create a vampire in "London After Midnight" (1927), in which he also played a detective.

In "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" (1923), one of his most famous films, Chaney wore a 40-pound hunch in a 30-pound harness strapped to his back, covered his eyeball with an eggshell membrane to look sightless and contorted his body in a straightjacket. As the deaf and partially blind Quasimodo, Chaney's tortured hunchback became one of his most famous creations and helped elevate his already rising status in Hollywood, thanks to the film's box office success. More than merely a master of disguise, Chaney's genius was in communicating the man behind the monster: the hunger for acceptance, the unrequited love and sexual frustration, and the pain caused by society's cruelty that fuels his monsters' desire for revenge. These qualities were most eloquently conveyed in his definitive film, "The Phantom of the Opera" (1925), in which he harnessed all his skills in creating the deformed Phantom, who haunts the Paris Opera House in order to see the woman he loves turned into a star. Given complete freedom to design his own makeup, Chaney again contorted his body, this time pinning his nose upward with a wire, while painting his nostrils and eye sockets black. His skull-like Phantom was unmasked in a pivotal scene that terrified early audiences and became one of the most frightening images ever put on screen.

Chaney followed up with "The Unholy Three" (1925), in which he played the roles of Professor Echo, the ventriloquist, and Mrs. O'Grady. In the last five years of his career, he signed an exclusive contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and made some of his most popular films, including "Tell It to the Marines" (1926), in which he played a tough drill sergeant. He next played the title character, "Mr. Wu" (1927), a Chinese patriarch who seeks revenge on the man who seduced his daughter. After playing a Siberian peasant in "Mockery" (1927) and a traveling circus clown in "Laugh, Clown, Laugh" (1928), Chaney was an animal trapper in Laos who would do anything for his daughter. The film marked the last time he worked with director Tod Browning. During the making of his next film "Thunder" (1929), Chaney developed pneumonia and later was diagnosed with lung cancer. Though he sought aggressive treatment and even managed to film a remake of "The Unholy Three" (1930), his only talkie, Chaney suffered from a throat hemorrhage and died on Aug. 26, 1930 in Los Angeles. He was 47 years old and left his son, Lon Chaney, Jr., to carry on his legacy of transformation, which he did to great effect and appreciation.

Name

Role

Comments

Lon Chaney

Son

born February 10, 1906; mother was Chaney's first wife, Cleva Creighton

Cleva Creighton

Wife

Hazel Hastings

Wife

Met when both worked with Ferris Hartmann Opera Company in San Francisco, CA; Married 1914 until his death Aug. 26, 1930

Education

Name

Notes

Wrote article on make-up in the Encyclopedia Britannica and wrote preface on a textbook of screen makeup by Cecil Holland.

His obituary in The New York Times claimed he was fond of the Hollywood quip: "Don't step on that spider; it may be Lon Chaney."